


Five People Jason White's Never Dated (But It Sure Would Be Cute)

by DarchangelSkye



Category: Green Day, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Biting, Buses, M/M, Morning After, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Shower Sex, Wordcount: 500-1.000, Written in 2007, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-17
Updated: 2010-08-17
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarchangelSkye/pseuds/DarchangelSkye





	Five People Jason White's Never Dated (But It Sure Would Be Cute)

Freese never wakes up just as the sun rises because he doesn't live by clichés. Instead, his eyes open a good half-hour before light is due, but he can still make out his surroundings.

He opts not to rub the sleep from his eyes, knowing it'll be blinked out eventually, and settles for rolling onto his back.

There's no need waiting for his memory to piece itself back together- where he is, what day it is, who he slept with- such a thing is cliché and besides, Freese hasn't forgotten. He even allows his mind to replay some of last night. Vivid images, lustful sounds, touches that were- he can't bring himself to say _heavenly_, but what he's feeling is pretty close.

He lays one hand on his waist, fingertips brushing where the slope of his hipbone begins, and the other absently reaches for his head.

_Where did I leave?_... He rolls over to get his answer. A still-sleeping Jason lies on his stomach, head resting on folded arms, and a newsboy cap perched atop his messy hair.

Freese can't help smiling. Maybe one or two clichés isn't so bad.

**********

_Smooth, unbroken...ooh, so many possibilities. Where do you want it, babe?_

Anywhere you want, Tré, I trust you.

_Good to know. Hmm...I think I'll start right...around...here..._

Oh...oh, man, you don't have to scrape. Just do it.

_You sure now?_

Don't make me lose my patience, Tré. Just bite already.

_Say when..._

Oh...that's it...yes, perfect, work those teeth- unh...ow, OK, too hard.

_Sorry, Jase._

It's OK, just so you know.

_At least lemme kiss it better...mmm..._

Is the skin broken?

_Nope. Want me to keep going?_

Please...

_You're so cute when you beg for it._

That's what you do to me, Tré.

**********

The soapiness of Mike's large hands is both sensual and soothing. Kneading at the back of his neck, working out every kink before making a line down to the small of his back. Combined with the shower pouring and trickling over them like warm rain, Jason can't help moaning at the sensation.

Mike moves his hands to rest on Jason's stomach, then plants a quick but gentle kiss on his shoulder. "I love it when you're all clean," he murmurs, "like a fresh canvas," emphasizing with a stroke up to Jason's chest, as light as a paintbrush.

The other man turns his head to look Mike in the face, loving how his hair looks plastered to his forehead, and water trickling down the lines of his cheekbones. "You just like getting me dirty again."

"Maybe," Mike says simply and lathers his hands again.

Jason shuts his eyes and sighs at the simple comfort of touch, but comfort quickly turns to pleasure as he feels a long finger slide up inside him. With wordless moans he clenches his muscles around the finger and blindly searches for Mike's mouth, kissing everywhere before lip contact is made. He feels pure wet heat all over his body, inside and out, and he loves it.

**********

Depending on the location, the bus seems to purposely hit every pothole in the road, making a loud _ka-thunk!_ to rattle its occupants all the way to the back. Billie could easily throw a diva-worthy hissy fit at the driver, but he has a much better way of coping thanks to Jason.

As cozy as any pillow, Jason's stomach is the perfect place for Billie to rest his head while the both of them lie on a couch, or even the floor if that needs to happen. And Jason has never complained one word; he just smiles at his friend and lazily plays with his raven locks.

It's the perfect set-up. Billie could never tell a soul, but he thinks Jason's little round face is the cutest thing ever, especially when he's smiling. If there's only a comforting, quiet love radiated, it's love nonetheless.

The wheels hit another dent in the road, but Billie only gives a relaxed laugh and wraps his arms around Jason's laid-back body. There's no other place he wants to be.

**********

Like most men, Jason is very visual, with one hell of a vivid imagination and photographic memory. Lucky for him his surroundings provide enough to visually feast on- one person in particular.

He can idly glance at Ronnie's arms encased in their suit jacket, remember how gorgeous they looked in that short-sleeved red shirt the other day, and envision those same arms around him, tight enough to hurt but a hurt to glory in, a hurt that feels so right.

He can sneak a peek at Ronnie's full lips, especially when they're perfectly molded around the trumpet's mouthpiece, and picture another place they'd look pretty damn hot on.

He can be lost in Ronnie's eyes, tinted a stunning shade of brown, and not only want to drown in them, but can imagine brushing his fingers or even the tip of his tongue across the eyelids, something he only dreams could make Ronnie shiver.

He can watch Ronnie's hands as they play effortlessly and visualize them on his own body, drawing the most intricate patterns and showing up in the most amazing places, every touch possibly taking down his own composure, not that he imagines he'd mind.

He even pictures cupping his hands on Ronnie's face and wonders how the stubble would feel underneath his fingers, his mouth, and imagines their dual moans of delight that could be the most beautiful sound in the world.

All he _can_ do is imagine.


End file.
